Dead Squad: book 5 - Trapped
by mandowriter
Summary: Kyr'am Galaar, mandalorian, has just watched his adoptive son, Taler Galaar, ex-republic commando RC-1133, tumble from the Lnteel Glacier on Hoth. A storm is rapidly approaching and he discovers that he is not alone. Beneath the glacier, surrounded by walls of ice, a jedi has lost his connection to the temple on Coruscant, and something dark is tracking him in the shadows.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**  
**Path blocked**

_Outer rim_  
_Hoth System_  
_Hoth_  
_Lnteel glacier_

Kyr'am Galaar stood rooted to the ground, unable to move as the last few seconds seemed to replay over and over again in front of his eyes. His heart had stopped, and was struggling to restart as the seconds seemed to drag out into eternity around him. He tried desperately to breath, his lungs screaming in his chest, but unable to inflate.

Taler, his adopted son, had just thrown himself headlong into a Jedi, and both had vanished over the edge of the blizzard torn glacier. He saw it all happening in slow motion. They collided sharply, the lightsabre falling from the Jedi's hand, Taler tumbling over the edge.  
Time caught up with him, and he inhaled sharply, the cold air filling his lungs as his heart began hammering against his ribs.

"No!" He cried, suddenly able to move. He raced forwards, leaping the crates around him and ignoring the bodies that were strewn around the snow covered ground.

The snow was blurring his vision, and he skidded to a stop barely inches from the edge of the glacier. He glared down over the edge into the swirling vortices of snow and ice, searching desperately for any sign of his son, the ground hundreds of meters below hidden from his eyes. A gust of wind raced up the side of the icy walls and crashed against his worn and haggard face.

"Taler!" he yelled, his voice ringing out across the lonely ice fields, whipped from his frozen lips by the savage gale that swirled around him. It echoed through the howling wind, each repetition fading into nothing.  
There was no reply.

Kyr'am fell to his knees, the soft, newly fallen snow cushioning his fall, his long, brown coat billowing silently behind him. The icy wind brushed across his cheeks, ripping away the tears that were welling up at the corners of his eyes. His grip on his blasters became slack as his arms fell limply by his side. All the strength he had felt a moment before evaporated and the hollow feeling of loneliness washed over him.

Memories of the past few days floated in front of his tear stained eyes, the falling snow like the static of a broken monitor blurring the images. Why had he not told Taler what was in the crates? They were supposed to be a family, and yet he had lied to him and deceived him. Where was the trust? He wished he could replay the events of the past week and do it all differently.

Sadness and remorse bubbled up within him, flooding into the hollow loneliness like water flowing into a darkened cave, the level rising rapidly and threatening to drown him in the dark embrace of guilt. He closed his eyes and felt fresh tears being forced from the corners, the warm trickle of salty water caressing the chilled skin of his cheeks.

The snow rustled somewhere behind him, and instinct took over. No matter how much he wanted to grieve, the soldier in him took over, and his grip tightened once more on his blasters. Spinning around sharply, he raised his hands until they were level with his shoulders, lining the sights up with his eyes. The storm continued to rage across the glacier, and everything seemed still. The wind was howling like the down thrust of a heavy freighter, and yet he had heard the tiniest of noises that had alerted him to possible danger. Some people would have put it down to the force, or some special gift, but Kyr'am knew otherwise. The human body was capable of amazing things, and he knew it was his subconscious warning him.

Rising quickly from the floor, he held his blasters out in front of him and edged closer to the stack of crates that was lying beside the idling speeders. The wind grew louder, as though it was trying to conceal whoever or whatever was hidden from him, but as a whisper can be heard above a storm, Kyr'am heard the shuffling of someone in the snow beyond the crates. Anger began to bubble up inside him. After everything that had happened to him, he was not even allowed five minutes to grieve. Where was the honour in attacking someone who had just lost everything?

Edging his way around rapidly, he spun around and glared down the length of his blaster, his eyes burning with rage and his finger tightening on the trigger. His own eyes locked onto the large, orb-like eyes of a Sullustan, and in an instant, his mind took in everything around him. The Sullustan's rifle, his wounded shoulder, the snarling creature that was stood over him, his teeth bared. Kyr'am steadied his arm and drew back a few feet, giving himself space to manoeuvre, but in that split second, something flashed across his mind.

The Sullustan was wounded, the rifle clasped in his limp hand. There was no way he could use it. The creature, some sort of hunting predator he suspected, was also injured, its back leg hanging beneath its body, with no weight placed upon it. It was snarling at Kyr'am, obviously protecting the Sullustan. Neither was a threat. His mind had worked this all out in the space of a heart beat, but that did not mean he could trust them. He lowered his blasters but did not point them away, keeping them covering the Sullustan and his pet while watching for any sign of danger.

The hound continued to growl, baring its teeth angrily at Kyr'am. It whimpered noisily as it tried to put weight on its leg, but it never took its eyes off Kyr'am.

"Steady, girl," the Sullustan hissed, reaching out to the hound.

"Who are you?" Kyr'am asked sharply, his eyes half closed against the falling snow.

"Juel Suund," the Sullustan said breathlessly, whining in pain as the burnt skin on his shoulder was being covered by snow. The scorched edges were blackened and the scar was weeping clear fluid. "Communications officer on board the 'Krayt Dragon'."

"Looks like you'll need to get a new captain," Kyr'am said calmly. Looking around, while still keeping an eye on his captives, he noted the other bodies. "And probably a new crew."

"Wasn't that keen on them anyway," the Sullustan laughed, but the laughter quickly descended into pained coughs. The hound backed towards him, standing almost on top of him like a living barrier.

Kyr'am had never thought himself to be cold-hearted. In fact it was his weakness when he saw injustice that had caused him a lot of trouble in his youth, and he knew that one day it would return to bite him in the ass. It was a trait that all Mandalorian mercenaries had, they knew what was right and they knew what was wrong. Some chose to ignore this, but they could still differentiate between them. It was something that a lot of the galaxy did not understand, and they found it hard to balance the image of a ruthless, cold blooded killer, with the thought that they were capable of acts of compassion. And it was that thought that was battling in Kyr'am's mind at that very moment.

He had just watched his son fall from the top of a cliff, and probably to his death. Every instinct was screaming at him to return to the ship and begin scanning for him, the last few glimmers of hope burning in the dark corners of his mind. But in front of him was a being who was suffering greatly, and would probably not make it back to his own ship alive.

He knew the right thing to do, but anger was still coursing through his veins, and it was bursting to be released. Kyr'am lost control, screaming loudly and kicking the pile of crates, watching them fall to the ground, the contents of blasters and pistols scattering into the snow.

"Why should I help you?" He hissed, not addressing the Sullustan directly. "Why?" He paced back and forth through the ankle deep snow, his blaster still gripped in his hands. "If I hadn't taken this job, he would still be here. But now he's gone..."

"No, he's not," Juel whispered. Kyr'am froze, turning sharply to the Sullustan. Juel's eyes were half closed, and he seemed to be staring into the middle distance, his eyes unfocused.

"What do you mean?" Kyr'am barked, striding rapidly towards him. The hound growled louder, seeming to pick up on Kyr'am's threatening sounds.

"He's alive," Juel continued. "About two hundred feet down, beneath us."

"How do you know?" Kyr'am cried. Juel just looked up at him and smiled, tapping his ear with his hand. It seemed the stories about a Sullustan's hearing were well founded. Kyr'am grabbed hold of the tiniest grain of hope and buried it in his heart, letting it warm his frozen veins.

"We can help you find him," Juel offered. Kyr'am felt the familiar pang of suspicion flutter up his spine. No one offered to help without an ulterior motive, but the Sullustan's voice had seemed genuine. It was easy enough to fake, but Kyr'am took a leap of faith and decided to trust him, for now.

"Let's get back to my ship," Kyr'am said calmly. "But no funny business," he warned.

"I never was the funny type anyway," Juel smiled painfully.

It took a few moments for Juel to convince the hound that Kyr'am was going to try and help, and once the creature moved away from his master, Kyr'am was able to help him stand, pulling the Sullustan's arm over his shoulder and hauling him to his feet.  
Scooping up his helmet from the snow where it had been thrown earlier, the three limped slowly across the glacier and up the loading ramp of the 'Trail-breaker'. He directed them both to the galley and reached out the medi-pack from one of the compartments and set to work on their injuries, making sure his blaster was always within reach.

With Juel's shoulder covered in bacta spray, and the hounds hip popped back into place - no mean feat considering the struggling of the creature, and its teeth - Kyr'am seemed to notice something was wrong. The ship was silent, the usual excited tweeting of his eccentric astromech nowhere to be heard. Confusion building inside him, he turned to head towards the bridge and found himself staring down the barrel of a modified Dekro-7 blaster.

"Hello, Kyr'am," a soft yet cold voice said.

...

_Beneath the Lnteel Glacier_

Brushing away the snow and ice that had covered his body on impact, Ber'ik struggled up the last slope towards the dim grey light that was filtering through the tunnel. His shoulder was throbbing from the impact after falling from the top of the glacier, and as he slowly scrambled towards the howling wind, he reached into his belt pouch and drew out his comlink. It chirped as it linked to the starfighter he had left many kilometres away.

"Ar-seven, open a channel, scramble code five to Coruscant, care of the 'Old Folks Home'," Ber'ik said loudly, struggling to be heard over the howling wind that rushed passed the opening in the glacier wall. A wild, excitable tweeting rang out through the ice caves, as the droid responded to its orders somewhere off in the white wilderness. In his hand, Ber'ik held a small holo-projector that lay dormant for a few moments, before a burst of light flared into life, and he found himself staring down at the image of a robed Cerean who seemed to be seated in a high backed chair.

"Report," the figure said cleanly, getting straight to the point.

"I have tracked down the weapons smugglers to Hoth, master," Ber'ik announced, the wind making it difficult for him to be heard. His four facial tentacles were getting number by the second as the temperature of the air around him seemed to be dropping rapidly. "They were in the middle of the hand-off, but unfortunately I was unable to ascertain their final destination. There were... complications during the negotiation process." The Cerean leaned back in his chair and slowly stroked his chin as he thought, the white hair on the very top of his high head and the small beard that clung to the underside of his jaw were immaculately groomed.

"A minor setback," he said casually. "It would have been beneficial to find the source of the weapons traffic, but at least there is one load less going to the Separatists."

"Yes, master," Ber'ik agreed.

"Well done, Ber'ik," the Cerean said, his voice always seemed to be lacking in warmth and sincerity. "We have another assignment for you. We need you to head towards Teyr and aid Master K'Kruhk and the 416th star corps. The situation is getting a little heated, and..." The holo-image began to shudder, the edges shattering as if the wind was tearing at the small figure.

"Master?" Ber'ik called out. "The signal is failing. Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, do you copy?"

The voice crackled and hissed, and the image vanished. Ber'ik adjusted his comlink, locking it onto his starfighter frequency.

"Ar-seven, do you copy?" Ber'ik said, holding the comms unit up to his mouth.

There was no reply, only the noiseless static carried on the hollow, icy winds that snuck through the frozen veins of the glacier.

"Ar-seven, respond." The comlink blinked feebly, the signal struggling to penetrate the storm as it grew wilder, sparks finally erupted from one of the broken relays. It had been damaged in the fall and his attempt to repair it had begun to fail.

Ittimea Ber'ik, Jedi Knight, stood at the entrance to the dim tunnels that had been carved out of the ice by the force of the wind over countless centuries, and felt mildly irritated. Of all the planets for him to be stranded on, Hoth was not near the top of his list. Being a Quarren, suited to life beneath the waves in the sunken cities of Dac, his kind were used to extreme temperatures, the depths of the oceans got quite cold. But they needed to keep their skin moist to prevent it from drying out and cracking. The icy chill from the wind was slowly drawing out the moisture, and Ber'ik could already feel it crystallising at the tips of his fingers.

In front of him, the ground fell away into white nothingness as the tunnel emerged onto the sheer face of the icy wall. A blizzard was raging across the glacier, slate grey clouds hanging low over the icy plains, making all communications difficult, if not completely impossible.

The wind tore at the hem of his brown robes, the edges fluttering silently around his legs, revealing two silver cylinders hanging from his belt. Both were wrapped with strands of leather, creating a band of tan brown around the silver, and the shorter of the two had a small horn at the end of the hilt. Another gust of wind blew suddenly up the side of the frozen cliff, chilling his already cold skin. Sinking away back into the cave, he backed around the first bend in the tunnel, shielding himself from the wind, whilst still keeping a clear line for his communicator.

"Ar-seven, are you receiving?" He repeated. Looking down, he watched the last few blinking lights fade, and the communicator finally died. He let his arms fall down beside him, and with a sigh, he tucked the remaining parts into the pouch on his belt. The ominous, grey clouds were growing thicker around him, the air becoming like soup. Stepping towards the edge of the tunnel and looking down, he tried to see if there was any way down. But the ground was hidden by the swirling clouds, and without knowing how far down it was, there was a chance that even the force would not help him descend safely. Looking up, it was the same. The summit was shrouded in the storm, and there were no other ledges that he could see.

A tingling sense rippled across between his shoulder blades, and he knew it was not merely he cold seeping through his robes. The force was speaking to him, trying to warn him of something he had forgotten. It took a few moments of silent thought before he finally understood what he was missing.

He had not been alone when he had fallen from the glacier top. He had been tackled by the white armoured Mandalorian, and they had dropped down into the white abyss together. And yet when he had awoken, he was alone. Where was the other?

Kneeling down in the soft snow at his feet, he rested his hand against his lap and closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and steadying himself, opening out his senses to the force. Like most beings, he interpreted the force in his own way, swirls of coloured smoke billowing around in his mind, opening and closing, revealing flashes of half complete images. The colours changed and swirled wildly, the calming greens and blues shot through with strands of orange and red. Slowing his heart even further, he let the force take him deeper, soaring between the images in his mind and letting himself be lead towards the path he was to take.

A fleeting sensation of familiarity rippled beneath the swirling smoke. He tried to move towards it, but it evaded him.

Multiple strands of smoke seemed to swirl around him, each breaking off and heading towards their own cluster of images. Paths lead in all directions, but the current of the force continued to drag him onwards, the feeling of something familiar still piquing at the back of his mind.

The smoke was becoming darker, the greens and blues fading into crimson and black. His eyes clenched as he struggled to maintain a steady heartbeat, the tension around him in the force seeping through into his veins like a poison. Screams echoed around him, the hissing slash of a lightsabre sliced through the commotion, and a red, bloodied 'T' visor emerged from the darkness, a flash of familiar eye staring back into his soul from behind the mask.

Then darkness.

A deathly, animalistic roar crashed through into his meditation, and he felt himself being dragged back to the icy caves once more, his eyes opening sharply. His hand dropped instantly to his light sabre on his belt and he felt the cold cylinder press against his palm. Another roar rippled through the caves, and a feeling of danger sliced through the force, the familiar warning tingling between his shoulder blades once more.

Danger lay within the caves, but he also knew that it was the only way out.

Slowly, he stepped away from the opening and ventured deeper into the caves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**  
**Cold awakening**

_Outer rim_  
_Hoth System_  
_Hoth_  
_Lnteel glacier_

"No!" Taler woke with a start, his eyes snapping open, the darkness that had enveloped him shattering into a blue tinted gloom. Cold shafts of light rippled through the icy walls around him as he looked around rapidly, and a flurry of snow falling through the hole above him. The adrenalin that had been absent from his muscles moments before surged through every vein as though it had forgotten its purpose for a split second. The brief reprieve and moment of stillness was washed away by an animalistic urge to fight.

He struggled to control it, his mind trying to catch up with what had just happened, his body quivering with a mix of fear and rage. At the back of his thoughts, he knew it was a simple reaction to any threat the body might be under, and that he could harness it and use it to fight harder and for longer. It was one of the first things his sergeant had taught him back on Kamino, which seemed a life time ago. But in the first few painfully slow seconds after regaining consciousness, the mind was working slower than the body, and this was when he was most at risk. His heart was hammering in his chest like a war drum, and he could hear the surging whoosh of his own blood boiling in his ears. His mind was blank, nothing but the simple desire to survive filling every darkened crevasse.

Trying to scramble backwards, a throbbing pain erupted across the left side of his chest, his muscles burning and his left arm suddenly shuddering as he struggled to hold it aloft. He tried to move his hand and he felt the muscles in his shoulder stretching and tearing, the bone scraping painfully against the socket where it should have been locked.

It was dislocated.

Looking around desperately, making sure that he was alone and not in any immediate danger, he shuffled himself backwards as far as he could, away from the beams of dim light that fell from the shattered ice ceiling above him. The snow that had come to rest on his armour fell away into the drift that had broken his fall, and he felt his back press against the cold, smooth walls, each movement sending waves of pain across his chest. Tucking himself as tightly as he could against the walls, he dropped his right hand to the holsters on his thighs and pulled out his blaster, holding it out level with his shoulder, ready to fire.

The tunnel ahead of him remained empty and silent.

Feeling secure that he could not be taken by surprise, he inhaled deeply, holding the breath in his lungs for a heartbeat before slowly letting it out through quivering lips. The pounding in his chest began to slow, and the rushing of his blood began to grow quiet, replaced by the howling wind of the storm that raged above him. Grunting painfully, he lay his pistol on the snow beside him and gingerly wrapped his hand around his left bicep, gradually getting tighter and tighter. Taking three deep breaths, he clenched his jaw, and in one swift upwards motion, forced his shoulder back into its socket. A wet thunk echoed through the small cavern around him, and he let out a scream of pain as the ball joint slipped back into place, the muscles all twisting and stretching out of shape. His heart leapt from his chest to his throat as the intense agony shuddered through his body. He fell onto his side. His eyes closed tightly, and he gasped desperately for air, the cooling air flooding his lungs and numbing the pain enough for him to focus once more.

Reaching into his belt pouch, he grabbed a single use hypo, and jabbed it directly into his shoulder, the sharp tip slicing through the body suit and sinking into his tender flesh. It stung, and as he emptied the phial into his blood, he felt it spreading through his muscles and soothing them, even if only a little.

His hand fell limply to the floor as he lay on his side, panting heavily, the hypo rolling from his fingers into the snow. He shuffled rapidly back into a seated position and he scooped up his blaster once more, holding it ready by his side as he strained to slow his breathing.  
Squinting through the gloom around him, he watched the world around him blur before finally slipping back into sharp focus. Ahead of him was a tunnel that sloped downwards at a steady angle before disappearing around a bend, the path hidden by the frozen walls of the glacier. Though not pitch black, his helmet filters did momentarily flicker to night vision, before returning to normal. He did not blink.  
As the primal instinct began to subside, and his muscles relaxed - a little at least - his memories bubbled back to the surface. Snow. Cargo. Devaronian. Blasters...

Jedi.

The word tore through his mind like a detonating grenade, brushing all other thoughts aside as it raced to the forefront of his memories. He remembered it all now. The blaster fire searing the air around him, the Aqualish thugs falling one by one to the slashing yellow blade, and the uncontrollable desire for vengeance that blinded him to all other things. The icy chill of the tunnels, and the agony of his injury faded away into a distant memory as his blood began to boil once more in his veins, coursing through like the fiery tunnels of Mustafar.

He had not fallen alone. The shocked face of the Quarren Jedi had followed him down most of the glacier, and though Taler had tried to keep hold of the struggling alien, the Jedi had tried to bring his lightsabre across in a slashing motion. Taler remembered kicking out wildly, planting his foot hard against the Quarren's chest and forcing them apart. The blade has sizzled past his stomach, and the Jedi slammed into a ledge half way up the glacier wall, a dull thud rapidly devoured by the wind rushing past Taler's head as he continued to fall. The ground rushed up towards him, and Taler braced himself for the inevitable.

The images faded away from his vision, like a recording coming to an end on his visor, but the memories remained, and the feeling of white hot anger continued to sear through his veins. He had never felt like this in all his life. Only once had he ever come close, and that was back on Kamino. But this was a hundred times more intense. The sergeants and trainers on that rain lashed cloning facility had never taught them how to deal with these emotions. They were trained to kill dispassionately, to always remain detached.

Emotions got you killed.

But Taler knew that this feeling would not surrender to his logical mind and his training. He knew that there was only one way to stop it.

Setting his jaw, and furrowing his brow, he pressed his back firmly against the wall and pushed himself to his feet. Staggering forwards as he struggled to find his balance, he blinked at the HUD, activating the comms. A warning flashed across the visor in front of him, stating that the comms were down due to the storm.

He was alone again. Just like Geonosis.

The storm raged just beyond the hole above him, and as he looked up, a break in the clouds showed him the ledge where the Jedi had fallen. It was a few tens of meters above him.

Clenching his fist, his face contorting into a sneer, he turned away from the shattered ice, and moved forwards towards the tunnel and into the icy labyrinth.

...

Ber'ik stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had barely entered the maze of caves beyond the ledge when the uncomfortable feeling of being watched swept over him. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the force, feeling out for the source. Stretching out in all directions, he felt his mind touch other creatures that lived within the icy prison. Most were barely sentient, ice worms and parasites that lived only by instinct and repetition. He reached out further. And then he felt it. A burning ball of anger and rage, so fierce he could almost feel its heat burning his skin. He tried to focus on it, to see its true nature. It shifted, blurring in his mind before it seemed to lunge towards him. Two familiar eyes glared back at him, eyes that he knew but could not place.

A ripple of danger crashed through Ber'ik's mind barely a heartbeat before a deafening crack echoed through the tunnel. His eyes shot open and the floor fell away from beneath the Quarren's feet. A cloud of shattered ice engulfed him as he fell through into the darkened cavern beneath, the jagged edges of the broken ice tugging at his robes. The world became flooded by darkness, and he braced himself for the inevitable.

Ber'ik felt his chest crunch painfully as he slammed into the floor, his robes billowing behind him as the sudden rush of wind blew past him, shards of ice tinkling noisily onto the frozen floor around him. The ground sloped away into the dark chasm, and in the flurry of motion, Ber'ik saw the edge of the slope racing towards him, the ice rising sharply in a ramp before vanishing in a sudden drop into utter blackness.

His eyes snapped up sharply as something twinkled in the gloom. A glimmer of light flickered across a ledge on the far side of the cavern, roughly fifty feet across the bottomless drop. There was nothing else around him, and he was almost at the edge of the slope. Using the momentum of the fall, he rolled through the tumble, bringing his feet down onto the slippery slope and giving himself just enough friction to ski down the incline. Bending his knees and using one hand to steady his rapid descent, he turned and glared back towards the debris that was still tumbling down through the hole behind him. Boulders the size of Tauntauns rumbled and crunched along behind him, shattering against the jagged ice walls and crushing the smaller ones that got in his way. They were getting closer. Turning away, he fixed his eyes on the ledge across the cavern and drew the force into himself.

He felt it tingling through every nerve ending and filling his muscles with power. The edge was only a few meters away now. He would only get one shot at this. Tensing his body, he waited until the very last moment. His feet were mere inches from the edge and the largest boulder crashed onto the delicate structure. Ber'ik watched it shatter beneath him. He kicked down hard, letting the ramp throw him out into the chasm, and feeling the force propel him upwards.

Emerging from the debris filled clouds, wisps of ice particles billowing in his wake, he soared across the shadowy cavern, arcing through the frozen air. The far wall was suddenly upon him. His feet stepped out in front of him, and they crunched down onto the ledge, the force of the impact throwing him forwards onto his side. He rolled along the tunnel and skidded to a stop.

The rumbling of the falling ice echoed through the tunnels like thunder across the skyscrapers of Coruscant, each terrifying boom like an explosion, the last few rumbling quakes shook the icicles above his head ominously. But it began to fade away into silence, leaving only the soft klink of shards tumbling into nothingness, and his own, pained panting.

He lay on his front for a few moments, breathless and aching, the tentacles on his face twitching and shivering in the cold air. Swirls of condensation danced around his lips as the warm air from his lungs cooled as he puffed it out. Rolling over onto his side, he looked up at the ledge and the cavern beyond. The darkness beyond was complete, the walls and ceiling around the ledge like some ominous gaping maw stretching towards him. The hole which he had tumbled through in the ceiling of the cave was no more, blocks of ice had fallen into it and closed it off, blocking everything, even the light.

Sighing heavily, he let his head drop to the floor again for a moment. It was more out of irritation that anything. Struggling up into a seated position, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, steadying his racing heart as the after effects of adrenalin began to subside, and stretching out once more to the familiar presence he had sensed before his fall.

But they had gone, the focused rage and anger he had felt a moment before had diluted into a more constant thrum of malicious intent, like the distant rumbling of an approaching storm. He closed his eyes tighter, stretching his awareness through the force, but the figure continued to elude him as he glanced through the cloudy images shown to him in his minds eye, the presence always there, yet hidden.  
His focus was slipping, his body shivering as the cold air began to seep through his skin.

Opening his eyes, he slowly stood up, his muscles aching, and brushed off the shards of ice that had clung to his robes. Gripping the sides, he pulled is robes tightly around his chest to stave off the cold. Turing away from the ledge, he started off down the tunnel as it lead away downwards, deeper into the glacier.

He would have to find a way out soon.

...

The gloom grew thicker the deeper Taler ventured into the caves. With each bend the light receded, and as the storm continued to rage across the outside of the glacier, night was rapidly descending across the frozen planet. Soon, there would be no light at all within the icy prison.

Periodically, his helmet visor would switch to night vision, the cold blue world around him shimmering into a pale, greying mess of tunnels and caverns. Branches lead off in all directions, each spreading through the ice in an ever-changing map. The sensors on his helmet had been mapping his progress each time he had changed direction, but on the few occasions he had been forced to double back, he found himself walking through different tunnels, tunnels the he did not recognise.

The glacier was almost constantly moving, each tunnel at the mercy of the monolithic slab of ice. The cracking and rumbling of the ice sheet as it slowly forced its way down the valley echoed through the glass-like walls, the ground beneath his feet vibrating with each movement. Blasts of frozen air howled through the icy veins, the silent whispers like half-spoken breaths of a dying giant.

Taler was struggling. The audio enhancements he had made to his helmet were amplifying the sounds around him, each crack and slight shift of the ice sounding like insects scurrying around him. Each time the HUD visor switched to night vision, the icy tunnels lost their colour and looked worryingly similar to the underground caves of Geonosis. The months since that fateful day just vanished.

Everything he had seen across the outer rim, all the things he had learnt and experience seemed to fade away as though it had yet to happen, and he found himself once more flooded with panic and fear and anger and hate.

"It's all in your head, Taler," he said calmly, though his voice was wavering. The absence of any other sound had made him realise how much he missed hearing his own name. It had been over four hour since he had woken up in the ice caves, and he had no idea how long he had lay there in an unconscious state. Fatigue had not yet started to set in, but the warning signs were already beginning to ripple to the surface.

Rounding a corner, the walls angled away from him and the ceiling soared up into darkness, and he found himself in a cavern big enough to house over fifty LATTi dropships. His jaw went slack for a moment and his grip on the DC-17m loosened, the weapon swinging limply down by his side, awe numbing his mind at the scale of the open space so deep beneath the glacier surface. Reaching up to the side of his helmet, he activated the tactical lamp, the harsh beam of light tearing through the gloom like a blade. He swept the light across the walls, watching as they vanished into darkness as they arched away around him. And as he looked up, the beam of light barely reached the icicle covered ceiling far above him.

As he stood staring at the majesty of this natural wonder, the voice of his training sergeant rose from the back of his mind. Always know your landscape. Exploit the high ground and find cover. Never get caught in the open. This was far too open.

His grip tightened again on his DC-17m, bringing the weapon up to his shoulder and sweeping it across the cavern. To his left, he saw a steady incline which ended ten meters above his head, a small recess carved away into the glittering, frozen walls. It would make a perfect sniper position, and would allow him to rest for a few moments without the danger of being seen. From there he could watch the entire cavern.

Making up his mind, he pressed himself up against the wall of the cavern, and rapidly began to climb the slope, reaching the top and sweeping the rifle across the recess. It was empty. Dropping onto his knees, he shuffled inside and tucked himself as far back as he could, vanishing into the darkened hole. Momentarily secure, he popped the seals on his helmet, feeling the cold air of the cavern rushing in around his face. The icy chill picked at his cheeks like a thousand tiny needles, but it was necessary.

Reaching into his belt pouch, he drew out a small ration bar, and shoved it hungrily into his mouth before replacing the helmet again. The suit sealed once more, and the environmental controls began to warm his face. Bracing the rifle on his raised knee, he inhaled deeply, and let his eyes close.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**  
**The beast within**

_Outer rim_  
_Hoth System_  
_Hoth_  
_Lnteel glacier_

Numbness was beginning to spread through Ber'ik's fingers, the tips already tingling with the stinging warning that heralded the onset of frost bite. So far he had been able to avoid using the force to sustain his core temperature, and being from an aquatic race, he was used to temperatures way below that of other beings. But he could also feel the moisture in his hands beginning to fail. His skin was becoming paler, the once smooth surface was now coarse and rough to touch.

It was times like this that he would have preferred to be on some other planet more suited to his physiology, somewhere wet and covered in endless oceans. A Jedi went where the force guided them, it was their calling to serve the will of the force. But sometimes, it did seem to have an odd sense of humour.

His memories of his home world were sparse, life in the order was all he had ever known. Taken from his family at an early age, he had always been surrounded by beings of hundreds of different species. He had trained along side them, he had worked with them and sparred with others in his quest to master the blade that was to become the symbol of everything he stood for. Jedi were taught that if there was a way to solve problems diplomatically, then they should always pursue that course of action. But Ber'ik did not want to be helpless when the words failed.

A flicker of familiarity shuddered through his mind once more, blurring across his force awareness, too fast for him to focus upon it. It was the same sensation he had been feeling since he had been tackled by the white armoured Mandalorian, as though it was someone he should know, or recognise. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to steady his mind and concentrate on the feelings, he could not isolate it. He had met a few Mandalorians in his missions along the rim, not all of them had been aware of his Jedi status. But thinking through all of them, he could not find any that wore heavy white and red armour.

The floor beneath him shook violently, and he stumbled into the walls.

His right hand shot out to steady himself against the icy tunnel walls while the floor continued to rumble beneath his feet - the glacier seeming to change configuration at a moments notices - he felt the drying skin scrape across the walls. A streak of red smeared down the crystalline walls, trickling down through the frozen, wave like surface. Drawing it away a little sharper than he had anticipated, he felt the skin catch and tear, small cuts and grazes appearing across his palm, weeping blood. He had not felt the pain, but as the blood rushed through the wounds, a flicker of feeling reappeared in his palm, and he hissed as the pain flooded his arm.

Reaching into his belt, he removed a canister of bacta and sprayed it lightly across the cracked skin of his hand. Scooping up the hem of his robes, he tore off a strip of brown material and wrapped it around his palm, stemming the flow of blood. Small dark patches began to seep through the improvised bandage, but soon the bleeding stopped as the bacta sealed the scratches.

From deep within the tunnels, Ber'ik felt something stirring. It was not a sound, it was not even a vibration through the frozen ground beneath his feet. It was a feeling, a sudden pulse of awareness that raced through the glacier and seemed to crash into him like a tidal wave.

It was not the same feeling he had felt before. That presence was still skulking around in the darkness of the icy labyrinth, sinister, foreboding and filled with white hot rage. But something else was now awakening, something primal and animalistic.

He had studied the files about Hoth before he had begun his mission, eager to know as much as he could about the planet and its potential risks. And the records had brought up many creatures that he would have gladly avoided. But physical descriptions and multi-paged worded research papers had told him nothing about the way they felt through the force. Without seeing the creature, he would never know what it was. And with the intensity of the feelings that were bubbling up through the force bombarding him with savage urges and a worryingly strong lust for fresh meat, Ber'ik was not sure he ever wanted to meet the creature.

The sensation that was flooding the force around him reminded him of the Gorgodons that hid in the icy caves of Ilum where he had journeyed on the final quest to construct his first lightsabre. His master, Toriea-Ki Val, had warned him about the creatures, but armed only with a training sabre, it was difficult to fight off the creatures and their death grip. Other padawans who had already completed their first sabres had told stories of the beasts and their own struggles with the ice bound monsters. But nothing could prepare him for his own quest.

As he had ventured deeper into the caves, his master forbidden from going further than the entrance, he had faced the visions and voices that haunted the caves. He could feel his fear and apprehension bubbling up inside him as it had on that day, each new vision forcing him to face some other aspect of his own uncertainties. Passing through each challenge, he found himself in the central cavern where the crystals had grown, and as he looked around, the glittering lights of a thousand shards twinkled in the darkness like the stars of a thousand galaxies. The force swirled around him, stronger there than any place he had felt before, and it seemed to drag him across the frozen floor towards a section of wall that seemed darker than most. There was a circle of nothing at its centre, and yet his hand was drawn towards it, and as he began to scrape away at the loose stone, a weak yellow spark faded into view.

Clawing at the walls, he revealed the golden crystal that had been buried in the stone.

Reaching down to his belt, he unclipped the lightsabre and held the slender cylinder in front of him, remembering the first time he had held it in the palm of his hand. It had felt so solid, so balanced, and even as the blade had flared into life and the golden glow of the yellow crystal illuminated the black walls around him, it had felt like an extension of his own arm. He let his hand drop away, but the hilt remained floating in front of him. It slowly turned around, showing him every side of the elegant weapon.

His master had been pleasantly surprised when he had seen the yellow blade. It was an unusual colour even for a Jedi, and it had always been synonymous with the Jedi Sentinels. It had been many years now since his master had become one with the force, and there was not a day went by when Ber'ik did not seek his guidance. He missed his master.

The memories of the past faded away rapidly as the first presence he had felt in the force, the sinister, familiar mind, suddenly grew tense and agitated. Something had happened that worried them, and Ber'ik let his lightsabre drop, scooping it up in his hand as it fell. The second being, the animalistic creature was on the move, and it was moving fast, slipping through the icy tunnels upwards from the darkened depths.

Ber'ik did not activate his lightsabre, but he did not return it to his belt either. He felt a shiver of cold sweep down his spine, or was it fear? Drawing his robes tightly around himself once more, he set off down the tunnels, letting the force guide his path.

...

The ration bar had settled in the bottom of Taler's stomach, and his eyes had started to grow heavy when the thunderous roar ripped through the cavern, vibrating through the crystal walls like a passing hover train. His grip tightened instantly on his DC-17m, snapping it up to his shoulder and sweeping it across the opening to the alcove, his eyes widening in a moment of fear. The frozen darkness blurred as his eyes let in too much light from the night vision visor, and he clamped down on the surge of adrenalin, controlling its flow. The pale grey walls around him gave way to the almost perfect black beyond, the distant walls of the cavern hidden by the thick gloom.

Flicking his eyes rapidly from left to right, he took in all the information from his HUD, recalibrating the scanners to penetrate as far as they could. But the ice was thick, refracting the signals. Contacts were being found from all directions, the scanners unable to differentiate between the small burrowing ice worms and the larger beasts that roamed the caves. Some contacts were barely registering, the frozen air around them cooling them and making them almost invisible.

Grunting with frustration, he began to slowly shuffle forwards, moving closer to the entrance to the alcove, the darkness beyond growing bigger. Another spine-chilling roar tore through the vast cavern, and he could hear the tinkling of icicles high above him as they vibrated, some breaking free and falling like invisible spears through the gloom, shattering into a thousand pieces as they slammed into the cavern floor. The rumbling of the glacier's movements could be heard rolling through the walls, the deep, ominous cracking following the ever changing mass of tunnels that laced the icy tomb.

Taler was only a few feet from the edge of the ledge now, and he could just about see the dull grey floor of the cavern way below him from his vantage point. The edges of the cavern stretched away into the gloom, and the far said was hidden by the thick darkness that inhabited the depths of the glacier. Here it dwelled, and fed on the fears of those trapped within.

His heart was starting to race again. In the darkness, and through the monochromatic filter of the night scope on his HUD, Taler found himself once again trapped, alone, beneath the dusty plains of Geonosis. The feelings he had felt that day were bubbling up to the surface, and as much as his logical mind tried to fight the memories, the same fear and uncertainty began to close in on his heart.  
Another roar echoed through the cavern, this time off to the right. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

He tightened his grip on his rifle, pressing it harder into his shoulder. Edging out past the last bit of cover the wall provided, he swept the rifle right across the cavern and down the side where he had heard the blood-thirsty cry. The scanners were still blinking away in the top quadrant of his HUD and small contacts were scurrying around all around him, and yet he could see nothing.

Frustration was building inside him, and it was getting increasingly difficult to control. With frustration came anger, and with anger came tension. His body was on a knife edge.

The ice cracked loudly off in the darkness, and the sounds of frozen boulder-sized chunks rumbling down a steep slope echoed out through the cavern.

Taler looked towards the sound and held his breath.

...

Ber'ik pressed his palms against the frozen floor of the tunnel, the feeling almost completely gone from the tips of his fingers, a throbbing, stinging pain coursing through his veins as the cold grew thicker. Struggling to extend his arms, he pushed himself off the floor, the layer of ice shards falling from his robes. shifting painfully onto his knees, he looked up and saw the hole above him where moments before he had been standing before the floor had given way beneath him.

The constant shifting of the glacier had weakened the tunnel, and the cold had dulled his reflexes. The floor had shattered beneath him, and he had fallen through the darkness, surrounded by the tumbling boulders. They lay scattered around him, sharp and jagged.  
It was even darker here than it had been above, and Ber'ik struggled to see anything of the environment around him. A black hole seemed to lead away from him towards the west, and a solid wall of boulders and ice blocked his progress towards the east. With his energy fading, and his emergency rations back at the starfighter, he knew he would never make the climb back up to the tunnel. His only option was to proceed onwards in the direction available to him.

The caves had fallen silent, the eerie cracking of the ice around him the only sounds he could hear. And yet he could feel something, the ever present sensation of familiarity he had detected up on the glacier top was growing stronger by the minute. Somewhere ahead in the darkness, the malice and anger was pulsing like a flare, red hot and blinding. But each time he reached out to it, it was becoming more familiar, and yet just as alien. It had changed from his first contact with it.

Back then it had been powerful and stubborn, a grey cloud of mistrust hanging over his head. But now, in the darkness of the Hoth underworld, it was becoming more and more like the dark side, savage and wild and uncontrollable. He reached out to the force, hoping to get some answers, but the more he tried to focus on it and pin point its location, the more diffuse it became. The cold was making it hard to concentrate.

Despite the certainty he felt that it was something best avoided, the force was drawing him forwards, towards the darkness beyond his vision. The call of the force was weakening, growing silent within his heart. Whether it was because of the power of the dark side, or because his body was slowly shutting down in the frozen environment, he did not know. It worried him, and he knew the only choice he had was to keep moving.

Stepping towards the gloom, he grabbed his lightsabre from his belt, and pressed it hard into his palm until he could feel it against his frozen skin. As the tunnel opened out, and his eyes struggled to see anything, he activated the blade and the golden glow of the sabre flooded out into the cavern beyond.

...

Taler's night vision crackled suddenly as a burst of light from across the cavern tore through the darkness, the helmets systems compensating rapidly and deactivating the low light filter. He was plunged into sudden darkness, everything around him vanishing into nothingness. He froze, the walls and the ground beneath him disappearing, leaving him with no way of knowing where the ledge ended. His eyes blurred with the sudden change in light, and as he struggled to focus once more, he glared across the cave and there, emerging from a tunnel, he saw the Jedi appear.

He was bathed in the amber glow of his lightsabre, the Quarren's orange skin bleached by the pale light, and the tendrils that emerged from his mouth hanging limply on his face. His shoulders were hunched, and he walked with a definite shuffle of his feet. There was none of the confidence that would usually be associated with the Jedi, the air of unreserved arrogance seemed to have evaporated.  
None of this mattered anyway. Taler did not care for the Jedi. Kneeling where he stood, he detached the nose of the blaster and replaced it with the muzzle of the DC-17m sniper rifle. The holographic sight flared into life, and the image zoomed in on the face of the Jedi as he walked slowly around the edge of the cavern.

He stopped sharply. Taler watched as his hand on the hilt of his lightsabre grew tighter, and he lifted the blade in front of him in a defensive stance. Taler held his breath. Had he been detected? Had the Jedi known all along that he was in the cavern? The Jedi were supposed to be omnipotent, able to detect anything from great distances and see into the truth of things. Taler feared he had lost his advantage.

The Quarren looked directly up at him, his eyes starng straight down the scope of his DC-17m, and Taler felt a ball of ice form in the pit of his stomach as his eyes widened. He could feel his focus bearing down on him, as though his eyes were tearing through the darkness between them and slicing through his helmets visor, fixing him with a stare that would leave him paralysed. Taler could not move. He was not afraid of the Jedi - in fact his hatred of them and their entire order was rapidly melting the icy feeling in his stomach - but there was something in the way he stared that unnerved him.

But just as suddenly, the Jedi looked away, turning to look back over his shoulder towards the tunnel he had emerged from. Taler felt confusion crease his brow, and his rifle dropped for a moment as he stared across the cavern towards the distant figure. None of it was making any sense.

Shaking his head, he cast aside the doubts and raised the rifle one more time, lining up the sights with the centre of the Quarren's chest and easing his finger against the trigger. This was payback for what had happened on Geonosis, for what the Jedi had done to his brothers, and to him. Vengeance would be his.

Exhaling slowly, he began to squeeze the trigger.

The silence of the cavern was torn by an ear-splitting roar, closer than any Taler had heard so far. Close enough to actually be...

He snapped his head around and found himself staring up at a giant white beast standing beside him on the ledge. The rifle fell limply to his side and Taler glared up at the massive, fur covered beast, directly into the gapping maw of a Wampa. It bellowed once more, the force of its cry like a gale-force wind tearing across the ledge, and Taler saw it swing its mammoth paw down towards him.

The claws slammed into the side of his helmet, and Taler was sent flying from the ledge to the cavern floor below.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**  
**Cold-Blooded**

_Outer rim_  
_Hoth System_  
_Hoth_  
_Lnteel glacier_

Taler felt the ice crack beneath his back as he slammed hard into the cavern floor, glistening shards flying into the gloom. The wind was knocked from his lungs as he grunted, his chest suddenly empty. He gasped desperately for breath, but his lungs remained stubbornly void of air. His face felt numb as the frozen air clawed at his unshaven skin. A dull thud echoed through the cave, and something skittered away across the ice, vanishing into the shadows. His eyes were wide in surprise, the blurry image of the Wampa howling in the darkness, its teeth and white fur like a spectre looming over him.

The DC-17 was already being raised, the barrel sweeping upwards towards the growling beast. His eyes flickered from side to side, searching desperately for the targeting icons to lock on. But it was not locking on. Nothing was working. A gust of painful air crashed across his eyes, and realisation began to dawn upon him. It had all happened so fast, and he hadn't realised that his helmet was no longer on his head. He looked around frantically, his eyes scanning the darkness for his helmet. In the shadows, hidden beneath the ledge, something metallic glistened. As his muscles tensed, ready to throw himself towards it, the silence of the cavern was broken by a blood curdling scraping.

A moment of fear flickered across his mind, every muscle, every nerve ending, and even the blood in his veins frozen like the ice beneath his feet. Slowly, he lifted his eyes towards the ledge. The Wampa growled as it leaned down, its claws digging into the icy ledge, three inch deep gouges sliced through the grey-tinted ice. Yellow teeth were bared, coated in saliva, the dark eyes of the colossal snow beast like onyx spheres in the shadows.

Their eyes locked, piercing through the darkness, neither willing to break the connection, both waiting. Taler could feel his heart slamming against his aching ribs, each beat like a thunder-clap, hammering against his empty lungs. If he could stay still, maybe he could remain undetected. But his body had other ideas.

He still had not breathed, and the darkness around him was growing thicker as his eye grew heavy. Struggling to remain still, he felt his muscles began to convulse, a ripple of pain spreading through his chest. Without warning, his mouth shot open and he inhaled sharply, cold air rushing into his barren lungs, the sound of wheezing filling the cavern.

The Wampa reacted instantly. Its mouth snapped open and a growl louder than any he had heard before erupted from between the rows of glistening teeth, the sound slamming into Taler like the shockwave of a grenade, the wind blasting past him. Tensing its arms, it threw itself from the ledge, its powerful legs kicking out and sending it soaring down towards Taler, its arms extended in front of it, claws like darts racing towards him. Taler looked up into a gaping maw of razor sharp teeth, and in an instant, made a decision.

Kicking down hard, he threw himself forwards, tucking his arms close to his chest and rolling across the cavern floor. The Wampa's feet slammed into the ice where only moments before he had been crouching, the long talons digging into the ice. Taler rolled away into the shadows, blinded by the gloom and his momentum, and came up sharp against the icy walls, his back suddenly halted by the barrier, and his head snapping back and cracking against the wall. His head throbbed painfully, and he felt something warm flowing down his neck from the bump at the back of his skull, but adrenalin coursed through his veins and he shook away the sensation, clearing his mind.

Whether by design of purely by luck, he had come to rest beside his helmet. He glanced down at it, and something looked different.

Turning it towards him, he felt his eyes widen in surprise as he noticed the three claw marks ripped into the Mandalorian iron across the visor. It seemed that when the Wampa had hit him, he had been lucky not to lose his head. The creature tore viciously at the ice beneath its feet, confused by the lack of prey, and it began to snap its head wildly from side to side, its nostrils flaring angrily as it searched desperately for his scent.

A burst of light across the cavern drew Taler's attention, and as he watched, he felt the rage bubble up inside him once more. In that instant, the fear he felt at being torn limb from limb by the abominable snow beast evaporated, and all he could see was the red mist of rage.

The Jedi was still alive.

His mind focused and became as sharp as a Hapan blade.

"Jedi," he cried with anger and venom. The Quarren stopped on the far side of the cavern and turned towards him. The Wampa fell silent and turned towards him also, hearing his cry and glaring at him with murderous, hungry eyes. Taler did not care. All he could see was the Jedi and a big mass of teeth and fur standing in his way. The Jedi turned and began to flee.

Scooping up his helmet, he forced it back onto his head and felt it hiss as it sealed. He lunged forwards just as the Wampa turned and raced towards him on all fours like a rampaging dewback.

They thundered towards each other, Taler's boots crunching on the broken ice, the creatures claws digging in deep with each bound. They were only meters away from one another, and Taler kicked down hard. He soared up into the air, gliding past the creatures head, and planted his foot firmly on the base of its skull, kicking down hard and using the beast as a launching post. Taler flew through the air, landing hard a few meters away, the Wampa stumbling, confused by the sudden disappearance of his prey, and crashing noisily into the icy walls. He did not care about the beast, and cast it from his mind, his eyes snapping towards the retreating glow of the lightsabre as it vanished down a tunnel.

Taler grunted in uncontrolled rage, and tore across the cavern, racing into the tunnel and disappearing into the darkness.

...

Ber'ik stumbled through the gloom, each movement becoming more and more difficult as he felt tiny ice crystals beginning to form in his veins. His skin had already begun to dry out, and painful cracks were forming across his hands and his face where the skin was exposed to the icy environment around him. His lightsabre lit the narrowing tunnel ahead of him, the sounds of the Wampa's angry cries having faded away into a worrying silence.

The pit of dark hatred that was the presence he had detected was now following him at speed. Usually he would have stood his ground, but in his current state he was weaker, and his link to the force was wavering as his body was struggling with the cold. The familiarity of the presence also disturbed him. He knew he had felt that presence before, and he needed to work out where, but in order to do that he had to steady his mind. But as much as he tried, he could not focus. Each time he dipped into the well of the force, he could feel himself being dragged along by the currents, further and further away from the answers he sought.

His feet were growing heavy, and he was losing the feeling in his extremities. They felt like blocks of ferrocrete, and with each breath they became more difficult to move. They dragged painfully across the icy floor, and as a guttural scream of rage blasted through the tunnel behind him, he spun around sharply, his feet failing to move, and he stumbled into the frozen walls. His hand stung from the frozen touch of the icy walls, pin-pricks of pain stabbing at his nerves. Looking around, he saw the tunnel widen up ahead, and the light of his blade swallowed by the darkness within. It was risky moving into open ground, but at least it would offer him more room to manoeuvre, and another exit route may present itself to him in the meantime.

Gingerly rising to his feet, he shuffled painfully into the cavern and edged his way around to the left, sweeping the cavern walls for any sign of a way out. The ice above him seemed to glisten with a blue sheen. Focusing in the ice, he half closed his eyes and stretched out his perception towards it, feeling a glimmer of the force still permeating his body. It was weaker than it had ever been, and he had to focus to keep a hold of it, but he could still sense it. Touching the ice with his mind, he felt it quiver lightly, and with a gentle movement, he sent a sound pulse through the frozen ceiling. Following the sound like a tracking system, he watched it spread out from the source, and his heart skipped a beat as he realised that it was only a few meters thick, and above it was the surface of the glacier.

He was nearly free. Closing his eyes, he drew in all the strength he could through the force and stretched out his hand towards the ceiling, sensing the ice crystals pressing against his palm. His muscles aching and his power fading, he began to clench his fist, hearing the ice crack tens of meters above him. He was breaking through.

A flicker of danger rippled through the force, a ribbon of red slicing through his concentration, and as his eyes shot open, he darted aside mere micro seconds before a fist went soaring past his head and slammed into the wall behind him. Turning to face the Mandalorian, he saw his own face glaring back at him from the red reflective visor, his eyes wide in surprise. The familiar presence was still radiating through the force, shrouded in a cloud of unbounded rage, the environment around him seemed to be coloured red with anger and the darkside.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

The Mandalorian growled angrily and swung his fist away from the wall towards the Jedi's face, Ber'ik ducking sharply and felling the gust of air brushing past him.

A surge of power swept through his arms, and as he extended his hands, a pulse of force energy erupted from his hands, and sent the Mandalorian flying backwards. Ber'ik watched him double over, and his feet and hands sank into the ice, digging in and grinding him to a halt. The visor snapped up to glare at him again, and the Mando launched himself towards the Jedi.

Ber'ik focused again and reached out in the force, stretching out his open palm and wrapping his consciousness around the figure, pushing back hard and lifting him from the ground. The Mandalorian slowed, his feet now a few inches from the icy floor and his movements almost like that of a slow motion holo-flick, but they did not stop. Ber'ik's strength was fading, and he could not hold him for long. Keeping one hand raised to control his force grip, he focused his mind and began to probe the Mandalorian's mind, resisting the darkness that seemed to permeate every inch of the Mandalorian's thoughts, hoping to find something that could explain the familiarity of this being. He didn't remember ever seeing this Mandalorian before today.

But the bounty hunter was fighting back. He shook his head violently, feeling Ber'ik's mind invading his own. The dark clouds of anger rushed in across his mind, and Ber'ik felt himself being forced out.

"Get out of my head, force freak," the mandalorian growled, wave after wave of anger slamming into Ber'ik through his connection, his grip on the struggling figure weakening by the second. Ber'ik chose another tactic and spoke aloud.

"Who are you?" He repeated. "Why do you hold such anger towards me?"

"I'm not surprised you don't recognise me," the Mandalorian spat back, another wave of rage sweeping through the cavern. "I was nothing but cannon fodder to you and your kind. You used us, you threw us at an enemy outnumbering us seven to one and cast us aside as though we were nothing."

"What do you mean?" Ber'ik replied.

"You cost me everything!" The Mandalorian screamed. "You will pay for your betrayal!"

Ber'ik was struggling to keep a hold of the figure, the cold starting to eat away at his dried skin. Pain spread through his whole body.

"I don't... I don't understand," Ber'ik panted, his breathing becoming difficult.

"What's the matter, Jedi?" the Mandalorian sneered. "Is your omnipotence failing you?"

A guttural roar shattered the stalemate, and the Wampa came crashing through the tunnel and raced between the two figures, its arms flailing wildly, its mouth open and its eyes black as night. Ber'ik reacted, flushing all his energy through the force grip, and throwing the Mandalorian clear across the cavern into the far wall. In one fluid motion, he spun away to avoid the rampaging snow beast, and he drew his lightsabre, bringing it up in a sweeping arc, slicing through one of the Wampa's horns. The creature yowled in pain, rearing up to it's full height. Ber'ik used all the power he had left and send himself soaring into the air in a controlled flip, half rotating at the apex and coming down facing the creatures back, sweeping the blade of his lightsabre through the Wampa's spine. Another painful cry of agony seared the frozen air, and the creature fell to the floor, lifeless and limp.

Staring down at the beast, he looked up, suddenly remembering the Mandalorian. Something jabbed into the base of his spine, and his whole body convulsed painfully. His knees buckled, and his grip on his lightsabre failed, the metallic cylinder falling to the floor beside him.

The world around him seemed to tilt, and he fell into his side.

...

Taler let the last flickering lights of the shock staff fade away, the pulses of energy dissipating across the twitching body of the Jedi like a cage of blue-white lightning. He gripped the shock staff in his flesh and blood hand, determined to feet every sensation with his own skin. The Jedi stirred lightly and groaned as the last shreds of pain convulsed through his body, the effects of the staff wearing off quicker than Taler expected.

"What's wrong?" Taler growled. "Too cold for you, Jedi?" The Quarren lay shivering at his feet, and Taler slowly walked around to stand in front of him. Taler watched him for what felt like hours, staring down at the feeble creature, the anger and rage he had felt at the Jedi and his kind still coursing through his veins. But it was joined by a feeling he had not been expecting.

It could only be described as pity. He pitied this being. Off all things that Taler had been denied in the galaxy - whether because of who he was or how he had been created - he had been given more than this wretched excuse for a creature. He had been given a family, he had been given a purpose, and he had been given a second chance. The Jedi had no such choice. Gifted the power to manipulate the force, he had been cursed to a life of servitude, taken from his family before he had even been old enough to walk.

But since then, he had been responsible for his own actions. He had been given the choice to do what was right, and yet the Jedi still acted as though they were better than everyone else, as though their existence was more vital than those of the people they served. They had become arrogant, and blinkered.

Yes he pitied them for their shallow existence, but that did not excuse what they had done.

The Jedi seemed to move, and began to stretch his hand towards the lightsabre that lay on the ice a few meters away from him. Taler watched it twitch in reply, the Quarren trying to draw it to his palm using the force. In one sharp movement, Taler stepped onto the hilt, and stopped it in its tracks. The Quarren seemed to sigh heavily.

"Do you know why you are here, Jedi?" Taler said, leaning down and scooping up the lightsabre hilt. It felt light in his hand, beautifully balanced, and yet radiating a feeling of alienness he had never felt before.

"The force has guided me here," the Jedi whispered.

"Wrong," Taler snapped, even the mention of the 'great and powerful force' seemed enough to anger him. Squatting down in front of the Jedi, he made sure the Quarren could see him in the gloom. "You are here, because of what you have done. What your kind has done."

"I don't..."

"The Jedi are arrogant, roaming the galaxy stirring up hatred and jealousy, leaving a trail of shattered lives in their wake," Taler growled.

"We serve the will of the force," the Jedi wheezed.

"You serve only yourselves," Taler barked sharply. "You claim to be peaceful, and yet you fight in a war. You claim to advocate freedom and yet you create vast armies of slave soldiers to shed their blood in the service of a galaxy they have no stake in."

"The republic must be protected..."

"The republic is dying," Taler said silently. "It is corrupt from the very core, and nothing will save it now. Your republic turned it's back on me and my kind on Geonosis. And I will make the people of the republic see what you have done."

The Jedi struggled up onto his elbows and looked up into Taler's face. Tears were stinging the edges of the Quarren's eyes, and they half closed as he tried to focus.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

Taler reached up and removed his helmet, letting the dim light of the cavern wash over his unshaven face. The eyes of the Jedi widened in surprise and confusion.

"You're just a clone?" He gasped. It was the wrong thing to say. Taler felt the rage bubble over in his heart, and the red mist descended across his eyes. He replaced the helmet over his head, and stood up, towering over the Jedi.

"I'm a Mandalorian, like my father, and my brothers before me," he spat back angrily. "And you will pay for taking them from me." Taler felt the lightsabre hilt in his hand, and lifted it up above his head, the blade igniting at the lightest touch of the switch. Taler swung the blade down. The Jedi's eyes widened, and his arms stretched out, summoning the last few shreds of power he could muster.

The blade stopped mid swing, the Jedi pushing against Taler's strength with all his might.

"You're becoming weaker by the second, Jedi," Taler hissed, feeling his own strength defeating the pressure against him. "The force has abandoned you."

"It will never leave me," the Jedi groaned painfully.

"I can see it leaving you," Taler yelled. "You do not have enough to beat me."

"No, but I have enough to stop you," the Jedi whispered. His other hand shot upwards and his fist clenched suddenly.

A thunderous cracking sound erupted from far above them, and Taler looked up just in time to see the ceiling of the icy cavers shatter and crack, boulders as big as the Wampa falling to the floor around them.

"NO!" Taler cried, robbed of his chance at vengeance by the cowardice of the Jedi. He snapped his eyes down to the Quarren and saw him smile. The light from the storm-filled sky was visible beyond for a painfully brief moment, before the shattered remains of the ceiling rained down around them, and both were buried in darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**  
**Storm bound**

_YG-4210 freighter "Trail-breaker"_  
_Hoth System_  
_Hoth_  
_Lnteel glacier_

The hull of the battered and bruised converted freighter rattled loudly as the storm continued to tear across the surface of the glacier beyond, gusting winds of a hundred and fifty miles per hour hammering against the small freighters bulkheads. Every now and then, an ominous cracking sound would radiate up from the floor, carried by the landing struts from the ice sheet beneath. The grunting cries of a pack of migrating Tauntauns carried across the wind, shattered by the echoing howl of a hunting Wampa.

Inside the ship, the muted sounds of the icy desert were the least of their worries.

Jenna Nova was getting impatient. For nearly fifteen hours now, she had been stuck inside the cramped confines of the galley, blocking the door and keeping one eye, and a steady blaster, on her three prisoners.

Kyr'am Galaar, the bounty hunter she had been sent to capture, sat quietly in the corner of the galley, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers meshed together in front of his face. His helmet was sitting on the table next to him, and his weapons - blasters at least - were safely locked away in a storage cupboard above Jenna's seat. Without his helmet, Jenna could see his face, and it seemed to be getting older by the minute. He was staring blankly at the bulkhead ahead of him, his eyes rimmed by a halo of red, and tears threatening to fall from the edges of his bloodshot eyes. Every now and then his eyes would dart up to the chrono display on the comms controls beside the door, and a look of fear and rage would flicker across his greying features.

The others in the room under her 'supervision' were an injured Sullustan male who seemed to have suffered a minor blast to his shoulder, and his growling pet who lay at its masters feet, never once moving its eyes away from Jenna.

This was not how the plan had meant to pan out.

Her own shuttle was somewhere far to the west, probably buried many hours ago by the falling snow. Not that it mattered. She had 'borrowed' it from a Toydarian who had fallen asleep, and she had never intended to return in it. The idea had been simple. Follow Kyr'am until an opportunity presented itself, and then snatch him and his ship and return to her employer. The first part had gone fairly smoothly. He had been acceptably distracted by the gun fight with the other smugglers and the Jedi, and she had been able to sneak aboard his ship undetected.

The astromech had proved invaluable in playing its part, even if it was oblivious to the role it played. The pulse beacon she had implanted in its communications array had lead her across the outer rim to this frozen wasteland, and the automatic override she had included had enabled her to shut the droid down before it had been able to reveal her presence.

All she then had to do was wait. And when Kyr'am returned to the ship, she got the drop on him. What she hadn't expected was to find the Sullustan and its pet being dragged along for the ride, but that wasn't her biggest problem. The storm had grown stronger, and was preventing them from taking off.

"Well, this is cosy," the Sullustan said, forcing conversation. Kyr'am did not look up, his eyes still locked on the far wall. Jenna had seen the look on many beings before, and it was the look of failing hope. "Reminds me of the holidays with the ex-wife..." He began to say, but Jenna's temper had reached its limit. The Sullustan had not stopped talking for what felt like hours.

"Don't you ever shut up?" She barked angrily. The Sullustan just looked up at her and shrugged.

"Just not a big fan of awkward silences," he said casually, letting his eyes drop to the creature at his feet and gently stroking it behind its ear. Jenna watched as the creature half closed its eyes, enjoying the attention, but it never once took its eyes off her.

"Well get used to it," she growled angrily. "As soon as this storm passes, we're dusting off."

"No," whispered Kyr'am. Jenna glanced back at him. He had not moved, but his whole posture seemed to have hardened.

"What?" She snapped.

"We're not going anywhere," Kyr'am repeated.

"You really think you have any say in this?" Jenna laughed. "I've got a pile of credits waiting for me when I drop your sorry behind off on Nal Hutta."

"I bet there is," Kyr'am hissed sourly.

"You really got Soruu wound up," Jenna said, reclining in her seat but never once letting the blaster drop.

"You could say that," Kyr'am laughed mirthlessly.

"So what did you do?" Jenna asked, genuinely interested. Usually she did not care what reasons there were behind contracts, but she had worked for Soruu for over three years, and she had never seen him as angry as when he had found out that Kyr'am was still alive - contrary to the reports being spread by a gloating Hydra-Corp thug. Kyr'am had done something to make Soruu see it as a personal affront, and he had ordered his capture, and he had insisted on him being alive.

"Wait a second. You mean you don't know why you're hunting him?" The Sullustan said in disbelief.

"Not really," Jenna replied with a shrug. "A job's a job. But as we have some time to kill before the storm settles, I thought it would be nice for a trip down memory lane. You were the one who wanted to talk!"

The Sullustan looked surreptitiously across at Kyr'am and shuffled uncomfortably. Were they planning something?

Another loud rumble rippled through the bottom of the ship, this one louder than any of the others they had heard so far. The ship shuddered lightly as the ground beneath them groaned. She noticed the Sullustan's ears twitch lightly. His eyes half closed and he seemed to be struggling to listen.

"What was that?" She hissed, turning to glare at the alien. His eyes opened quickly and he shrugged. Composing himself, he shook his head and pulled a non-committal face.

"Nothing," he said a little too quickly. Kyr'am seemed to pick up on the comment and looked up at the Sullustan, his eyes widening in what looked like hope.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Jenna growled, worried she may be losing control of the situation. "Tell me what you just heard."

"It was nothing," the Sullustan repeated. "Just a section of the glacier collapsing. About two hundred meters to the south."

He looked across at Kyr'am and seemed to give him a sorry smile. Kyr'am looked away from him and refocused his attention on the bulkhead. The creature at the Sullustan's feet picked up on its masters feelings. Shuffling closer, it pressed its flank against his leg and rested its jaw on his knee, whimpering lightly.

"Maybe you're right. I should shut up," the Sullustan announced in an all-too-casual way. "Actually, I'm beginning to like the peace and quiet."

"Well don't get used to it," Jenna said, forcing a smile, rising from her seat and moving to the door. Her face was still hidden beneath her helmet, but she knew her voice would betrayed her grin and give her an air of confidence. If she could convince them that everything was under control, she would be able to keep them in line. "It's plenty noisy where we're going."

"We're not going anywhere," Kyr'am growled once more. His fists were clenched tighter, and his jaw was twitching as he hissed is words out through gritted teeth. "Not without him."

"Without who?" Jenna said, taking a step further into the galley and away from the door, somehow drawn in by his silent voice.

"Without me," a voice hissed from behind her. Jenna realised her mistake a fraction of a second too late. Spinning around sharply, she found herself face to face with the white armoured Mandalorian she had fought on Nar Shaddaa. Her hand was already lifting her blaster towards him when she felt a sharp stabbing pain rip through her stomach.

She inhaled sharply and let out a gasp of pain before a searing pain shot through her whole body and she felt every muscle convulse as pulses of static energy coursed through her veins. The shock staff dug deeper into her abdomen, wave after wave of energy flowing through her, and the world around her began to darken from the edges of her eyes. She felt herself falling backwards, and the darkness wrapped itself around her.

Soundlessly, she slipped into unconsciousness.

...

Kyr'am stood quickly, startled by the sudden burst of motion. His hands had dropped automatically to the holsters on his thighs, and found them to still be empty. He stared down at the now limp body of the green armoured Mandalorian woman, watching her twitch lightly as the last few remaining pulses of energy dissipated across her plates. It had all happened so fast that he had not had time to take it all in. Standing in the doorway, the shock staff still gripped in his hand, was Taler.

Taler seemed to glare down at the woman lying at his feet, and even through the visor, Kyr'am thought he could see a glimmer of recognition in his body language. Did Taler know this woman?

His mind took in everything at once, but seemed to gloss over the smaller details. There, in front of him was the son he had thought he had lost. He felt his heart swell with relief and pride. For what felt like hours, he just drank in his presence with his eyes, letting his mind believe that he was really back. But as the seconds grew longer, he felt his eyes widen as he realised the state his son was in.  
Taler's armour was scratched and scuffed, the recently acquired armour showing signs of a battle that had been rough. The Kama was ripped and torn, and as Kyr'am swept his eyes up, he saw the dried blood that stained his son's hands. The mechanical arm that had replaced the one he lost on Geonosis was what gave him the greatest pain. The gauntlet that would have protected it was missing, and the synthetic flesh that covered the cybernetic armature was torn and ripped. His eyes snapped towards his son's face, hidden beneath the red visor, and he staggered back in shock.

Across the visor, three deep cuts stretched down from above the left eye to the right side cheek, revealing the bare metal beneath. It was shocking. Beskar was one of the strongest metals in the galaxy, even capable of withstanding a lightsabre stroke - for a time at least. And yet something he been powerful enough to slice clean through it, leaving gouges across the visor itself.

Kyr'am stood breathless for a moment, unable to make his mouth work. It remained stubbornly silent, hanging open in a look of shock and disbelief. Though everything that had happened, the fall from the glacier, the encounter that had scared his armour, and the storm that raged outside the ship, Taler had been able to find his way back. Pride rose up from his heart.

"Tal'ika," he said warmly. "I'm so glad you're back. Are you oka...?"

"I'm fine," Taler cut him off sharply, his visor snapping up, away from the unconscious body on the floor, and now glaring across the galley towards Kyr'am. His voice was harsh and cold, and Kyr'am could feel the anger that still bubbled inside him.

It was even worse than before. Kyr'am knew he had to try and explain what had happened with the cargo, and why he had not told him what they were hauling, and for who.

"Son," he said softly, taking a tentative step towards Taler. "About what happened on the glacier..."

"Don't," Taler growled. "Just don't."

"But I want you to understand...," Kyr'am tried to speak, but Taler took two giant paces towards him, tearing his helmet from his head and tossing it aside, stopping barely an inch from Kyr'am's face.

"You want me to understand why you lied to me?" Taler barked. "You want me to understand why you were shipping weapons for the separatists? Weapons that will be used to kill more clones? To kill my brothers?" Taler's eyes were quivering with rage, burning like the fiery rivers of Mustafa. Tears were barely clinging to the corners of his eyes, his face pale, and looking suddenly much older than his twenty accelerated years.

"I was doing this for us," Kyr'am tried to explain. Taler huffed out a breath of derision. Kyr'am continued, trying to make Taler see. "By doing this one job, Relnar would get us the slicer so we could hack the data I got from Prazon Kexx."

"And then what?" Taler yelled. "Bring down the whole organization? Make them pay for all the crime they have committed? Avenge all the lives they have taken? Or just get revenge for what he did to YOU?"

Kyr'am stood for a moment in silence, unable to speak. He knew the answer, and it was not the one he had hoped for.

"Don't pretend you were doing this for US," Taler continued, poking a finger accusingly against Kyr'am's armoured chest. "You don't care what happens to me. I'm nothing but a tool, a slave. I do the running and the lifting. That's what I was made for, wasn't it? Bred to be a target. That's all I am to you... a wet droid." The tears fell freely from Taler's eyes now, his fists quivering down by his side. Kyr'am felt his own heart breaking for the second time today.

"Son..."

"Don't call me that," Taler spat back. "The galaxy is full of people claiming to do the right thing. But when it comes down to it, you're all selfish, all just out for yourselves. The republic, the separatists, the Jedi... even you." Taler glared at Kyr'am, searching his face for anything that might change his mind. He did not find it. "I've lost everything... No, I didn't lose it. To lose something means it was an accident. It was taken from me. Taken away by people who were so arrogant as to think they knew what was best. My childhood. My freedom. My brothers. My trust," he added pointedly, his eyes burning into Kyr'am's.

Kyr'am remained silent. There was nothing he could say to defend himself.

Taler's shoulders suddenly sagged as though all the fight had left him, and he turned and walked back towards the door.

Kyr'am tried to call out to him, his mind and heart screaming inside him for Taler to stop and turn to face him again, to give him a chance to defend himself and tell him that what he thought was wrong. But he knew that it wasn't. He had done so many things in his life, and some had been selfless, defending the weak and the powerless. But a few acts of kindness could not wipe the slate clean, and there were other things he had done that not even himself could forgive. How could he expect Taler to forgive him if he could not forgive himself?

Taler was almost out the door when another voice cut the silence.

"What happened out there?" Juel asked. Taler stopped in his tracks. Kyr'am had almost forgotten that the Sullustan had even been in the room. "Where's the Jedi?"

Taler looked back over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about him," he growled. His hand unhooked something from his belt and he placed it on the work surface beside the door. It was the Jedi's lightsabre. "He is now one with the force."

Without a second glance, Taler stepped through the door and walked away down the corridor.


End file.
